Elvis Ventura: The Making of a God
by metaphorical32
Summary: Meet Elvis Ventura, a rouge Elf with the voice of an angel. When he gets a job to travel with a theater troupe, he meets some wacky friends, including a shy gnome with green hair, and a dancing lycanthrope. What happens next? You won't believe it. Rated T for violence and other suggestive themes.
1. Prologue

Elvis Ventura wears many faces. To the country of Celebrian, his homeland, he is a wealthy, womanizing bachelor with the voice of an angel. To his friends and allies, he is a loyal, honest companion with the ability and willingness to protect them. To his foes, he is a cunning and skilled fighter with the wits to stay one step ahead of them.

But who is Elvis really? Who is he to himself? This is something he is still searching for.

To the world, Elvis is charming, cunning, and carefree. His Elven heritage makes him more handsome than most humans, despite all his scars on his face. His singing moves people; causes them to feel what they haven't before. His loyalty to his country, goddess, and friends provide a sense of security; people feel safe around him.

But what is beyond the surface? Why is Elvis so devoted to his faith? Why does he constantly seek female companionship? Is he really as self-confident as he seems?


	2. Chapter 1

Elvis Ventura stood on stage, the dirty tavern lights causing his blonde hair to shine, belting out a folk song so beautifully that all the young maidens fell instantly in love with him. He smiled, loving the attention. This was his passion, after all.  
Elvis finished the last verse, took an extravagant bow, and stepped off the stage. High from his performance, he didn't see the dark-haired man in front of him until their paths collided.  
"Oh! I'm sorry, sir, I didn't see you there," Elvis quickly apologized.  
The man chuckled. "It's quite alright. You're just the man I was hoping to run in to!" He laughed at his weak pun and stuck out his hand. "My name is John Reynolds; pleased to finally meet your acquaintance."  
Elvis shook his hand slowly. "Um...thanks?"  
John smiled and continued. "Over the past few months, I've seen you perform in several taverns all over Celebrian; you sing quite well."  
"Well thank you. Terribly sorry I never noticed you before..."  
John waved his hand, dismissing Elvis' apology. "No matter. Today, I come to you with a job offer. You're in need of some gold, aren't you?"  
Elvis chuckled, biting his tongue. "Go on."  
"I own a theater troupe. Reynolds &amp; Co.; you may have heard of it? Anyway, I'm planning a musical, something extraordinary, and I'd like you to be a part of it.  
Elvis scratched his scarred chin, trying not to seem too interested. "Hmm. Tell me more."  
"Well, we'll be travelling across the land, performing in a few major cities and several towns. We are providing free meals and lodging. All performers will get forty-five percent revenue; divided among you, of course."  
Elvis' blue eyes widened and he nodded his head. "That's a pretty fantastic deal."  
John smiled broadly. "Does that mean you'll accept my offer?"  
"Yes, I think I will. When do we start?  
"In a couple of days, after I've completed my scouting."  
"Alright, incredible. I can't wait."  
John chuckled. "Neither can I. Good day, Mr. Ventura.  
Elvis smiled and nodded. John briskly turned and left the tavern. Elvis strutted to the bar, ordered a drink, and thought about his new job. Finally, he would be doing something exciting and different; something grand. He'd be working with people who shared the same passion and appreciation for the fine arts. He could hardly wait.  
Suddenly, Elvis felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a beautiful, curly-haired blonde in front of him.  
She smiled shyly. "Excuse me, sir, but I just wanted to compliment you on your outstanding performance."  
Elvis grinned, examining every aspect of the human woman in front of him. "Why, thank you, dear. And please, call me Elvis. Oh, and tell me, what's your name?"  
"My name is Lucille," she said as her big doe eyes sparkled.  
"Well, nice to meet you, Lucille," Elvis said, taking her hand in his and kissing it lightly. "And I must say, your name is almost as lovely as you are."  
Lucille's rouged cheeks turned crimson as she giggled. "Thank you, Elvis. I'm flattered."  
Elvis grinned. "Do you fancy a glass of wine, Lucille? My treat."  
Before she could answer, Elvis called over the barkeep, and a glass of wine was presented before her. She smiled and sipped it slowly, thanking Elvis.  
As the night wore on, Elvis and Lucille continued to talk. It was casual conversation, but it was enough to get Lucille to agree to go with him to his room above the tavern, not to be disturbed until morning.

The next day wore on slowly as Elvis awaited Mr. Reynold's word. It gave Elvis more than enough time to explore the town, though. The streets were bustling with townspeople and foreigners alike. This was a port city; a place where people came from all over to exchange goods and find a place to sleep. It was one of the cities that had seen it all, from raiding dragons to friendly orcs. Nothing surprised them. That day was an exception.  
Elvis was still taking his leisurely stroll around the market place when he heard a commotion from inside one of the shops. He halted and cupped his pointy ears to listen closer.  
"…a beast! I swear, he was part bear!" came the yells of one of the shop keeps.  
"Half bear? Like a lycanthrope?" squealed a woman.  
"Yes! But he was a bear! A white bear, like something you'd see up north!"  
Elvis stepped in to the shop, wanting to hear more about this 'beast'. As soon as he stepped in, all eyes were on him.  
"Why, good afternoon, Mr. Ventura! What can I get for you today?" greeted the shop keep excitedly.  
Elvis smiled wide. "Oh, I'm not here for business. Just some information. Tell me more about this 'beast'."  
The shop keep was beside himself. "Oh, you should have seen him, Mr. Ventura! He was seven feet tall, at least, and huge…like a giant bear-man!"  
Elvis rubbed his chin in thought. "Oh really?"  
"Yes! And the strangest thing was that he could dance!"  
"Dance?"  
"Yes! He rushed in to the shop, saying he just wanted to put on a show. I swear, he was delusional!"  
Elvis chuckled. "Did you happen to catch his name?"  
The shop keep nodded. "Yes. He said his name was Frenzy." He snorted. "It sure is fitting."  
"Did you see where he was headed when he left?"  
"I believe he was going to the bar. Said something about needing a drink."  
Elvis smiled and placed a couple gold pieces on the counter. "Thank you, sir. Now, if you don't mind, I've got somewhere to be."  
The man grinned widely. "Oh, no problem, Mr. Ventura! Have a good afternoon!"  
Elvis left the shop and headed back towards the tavern. He didn't know why he was so interested in the man-bear, but he was. It was probably the dancing that threw him off. Sure, lycanthropes were common, but dancing lycanthropes? That was something entirely different.  
As Elvis approached the tavern, he noticed a huge crowd outside the door. Everyone was huddled as close as they could be, peering inside with awed expressions. Elvis pushed his way through, wanting to see what all of the excitement was about.  
Once inside, he saw an awesome sight. On the stage was a man. A huge, furry bear-man, around seven feet tall, with muscles bulging out of his sack shirt. He was strutting around the stage, using the air as his partner. He leaped and twirled, showing grace that Elvis had never seen before, not even from the Elven women back home who were known for it. Frenzy, as he called himself, was completely focused. It seemed no one could break his concentration from his dance. It was beautiful, if a beast could ever be beautiful.  
When he completed his show, Elvis was the first to clap. It seemed the rest of the citizens were stunned. Once Elvis led them, though, they whooped and cheered. Frenzy was beaming. He bowed gracefully and leapt off stage.  
Suddenly, from the far right corner of the tavern came a loud voice mumbling, "Why all the cheers? Please, I can do better than that!"  
Everyone turned to view the grumpy speaker, a short little fellow, more than likely a dwarf. He was flamboyantly dressed in regal clothing, complete with intricate gold trim. His style resembled a woman's, and his voice was high-pitched as well. He was a handsome dwarf, too, which was strange. Something about him was alluring and interesting, and Elvis was intrigued.  
A man sneered. "Naw. Yer stubby legs cain't even run, let alone dance!" Several others nodded and whooped in agreement.  
The dwarf glared at the man and spat on the floor. "Fine. I'll prove it." With that, he bounded on the stage. From his belt he pulled out a lute, pure white and extraordinarily crafted. He began to play, filling the tavern with sweet, delicious notes. As he played, he began to tap his feet on the wooden floor. He twirled and tapped around the stage, all the while keeping the music steady. It seemed he never ran out of air or energy.  
The man who taunted him was stunned. This dwarf was fantastic. It was a strangely beautiful performance, alluring and charming. When he was finished, the whole tavern erupted in applause for the second time.  
Elvis was among the cheerers. The dwarf bowed repeatedly, clearly basking in the attention. With a final dramatic spin, he bounded off the stage. Frenzy was glowing and approached him with glee.  
"What's your name? You're so good!" he boomed.  
The dwarf cleared his throat. "My name is Patrick, and thank you, but I don't need your miniscule compliments. I know I'm a big deal."  
The lycanthrope grinned, ignoring Patrick's snide attitude. "My name is Frenzy. We should dance together sometime. It would be so awesome!"  
Patrick grimaced. "No thank you. I'd rather have a fireball blasted in my face."  
Frenzy cocked his head. "What's a fireball? Is it fun?"  
Patrick rolled his eyes. "Uncultured swine. You don't even know the basics of magic?"  
Elvis decided to approach the pair then. "Excuse me, Patrick and Frenzy, I just wanted to introduce myself. My name is—"  
"Elvis Ventura, yes, yes, I know. I don't care." Patrick scoffed.  
Frenzy blinked in delight. "The Elvis Ventura! Wow!"  
Elvis grinned, unscathed by Patrick. "Yes, well, I'm pleased to meet you both. I have some interesting news, as well."  
Patrick sighed. "What could you possibly know that I don't?"  
"Well, I was approached by a Mr. John Reynolds. He runs a traveling theater troupe and is currently scouting for some new members. I could surely make some recommendations. Are you two interested?"  
Patrick gave out a dramatic yawn. "You're boring me with this. I already am in the troupe. And I hardly think he'll want this…this beast to join him."  
Elvis shrugged. "I thought he was great."  
Patrick laughed. "You wouldn't know talent if it hit you in the face."  
Frenzy, seemingly oblivious, maintained his grin throughout the entire conversation. "A travelling theater troupe? That sounds great! Where is this John guy, and how can I join?"  
Patrick snorted. "You have to be chosen, you can't just join. And good luck catching his attention."  
Suddenly, Elvis heard from behind him the sound of a man clearing his throat.  
"Terribly sorry to interrupt…" traveled off the speaker.  
Elvis turned around to face Mr. Reynolds himself, and he grinned.  
"Oh, it's no problem," he said. "We were just talking about you."  
John chuckled. "I heard. And let me just say, Patrick, that there is no need to be rude. Mr. Frenzy here is quite talented."  
Patrick glared at him and opened his mouth, but John intervened, saying, "And I've been hit in the face with talent many times, Mr. Patrick."  
Frenzy grabbed John's hand and shook it violently. "Hello! So you're that John guy who runs the troupe? How cool! My name is Frenzy, and I like to dance!"  
Elvis couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. John grimaced at the random act and brushed off his hand. "Yes, I'm Mr. Reynolds, but you can call me John, that's fine," he said sarcastically.  
John gave Frenzy the same spiel he gave Elvis the night before, but there was no need. Frenzy was frantically nodding his head the whole time, apparently very eager to join. He accepted the offer with no hesitation.  
John clapped his hands together. "Great!" he exclaimed. "I'll have the caravan ready at sunrise. I expect to see you all there." Without giving any of the others a chance to question him, John whirled around and headed out the door.  
"Care for a drink, men?" Elvis offered.  
Patrick looked at him with disdain but answered, "Free ale? You know my weakness, Elvis."  
Frenzy just nodded his head excitedly.  
"Barkeep, three ales, please, and rounds for the whole tavern!" Elvis exclaimed.  
The night wore on, and the three men drank through it. Patrick loosened up a bit once he had a few drinks, and was actually fun to be around. Frenzy was wild, and very amusing. He had the whole tavern laughing at his antics. But as much fun as he was having, Elvis retired early, preparing himself for the long day the next day. For the first night in many, he went to bed without a companion, but was still satisfied. 


	3. Chapter 2

Sunrise came early. Elvis was already awake, packing his bag for the upcoming day. He packed light, for he rarely slept outside, so there was no need for a bedroll. From the corner of the room, his short sword gleamed, reminding him that it was there. He never used his extravagant sword in town, for there was rarely use for it. But this was different. He swiftly swooped the short sword into the case at his hip. Staring at the pink sky, he thought about the day ahead. He could hardly wait to meet the rest of his fellow troupe members, if they were anything like the men he met last night.

As the sky began to turn blue, Elvis left his room and made his way to the outskirts of town; the known caravan meeting place. Sure enough, there were five caravans and about twenty people when he showed up. The caravans were excellently crafted and lavishly decorated. And the people, well, they were the most interesting people Elvis had ever seen. Dwarves, gnomes, elves, humans, and everything in between were there. Some had unique markings and colored hair. Others wore extravagant clothing and makeup. Elvis felt strangely out of place and underdressed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Elvis saw someone waving frantically. When he turned to look, Frenzy came running over, seemingly overjoyed.

"Elvis! Elvis! Isn't it great?" he exclaimed, a huge, toothy smile spread over his dirty face.

"I guess so…" Elvis replied hesitantly. He glanced over to his new friend, and his eyes widened. At Frenzy's hip was a double-ended axe! It was filthy with dried blood and dirt. The blades seemed to gleam, though, like eyes that were hungry for more.

Frenzy carried on, oblivious to Elvis' hesitation and wide eyes. He raved about the people, their talents, the instruments; everything. Elvis just nodded his head here and there and continued to survey the crowd. Patrick was among them, and Elvis waved, but Patrick glared and ignored him.

Suddenly, Elvis was drawn to someone else. Standing out of the way and by himself was what looked like a gnome. He had the large head and the short, thin body of a gnome anyway, and his hair was an exotic green; gnomes were known for weird hair colors. He looked like he was trying to stay out of everyone's view, and Elvis was curious why. He was in a troupe with people of amazing talents; surely he wasn't shy.

Though Frenzy was still yapping on excitedly, Elvis ignored him and walked toward the man. Frenzy followed, asking in a loud voice, "Where are we going?"

"To make some friends, buddy." Elvis answered. Frenzy's eyes sparkled.

The gnome was looking down at the ground, fiddling with the hem of his robes when the pair approached him. "Hi there," Elvis greeted with a smile. The gnome looked up in shock and jumped back.

"Woah. Hello. What do you want?" he sputtered.

Elvis shrugged. "Nothing. I just came to introduce myself. I am Elvis Ventura. What is your name?"

"My name is Maksbur Twistdwadle, but I go by Maks."

"Hi Maks! I'm Frenzy! Elvis said we could be friends!" Frenzy shouted. He attempted to grab Maks' hand, but Maks swiftly pulled away in fear.

Elvis reached out his arm to hold Frenzy back. "Careful, Frenzy. Not everyone is as…friendly…as you are." Turning to Maks, he said, "Pleased to meet ya, Maks." He outstretched his hand, waiting for a friendly shake.

Maks stared at the pale hand in front of him, stunned. Hesitantly, he shook it, staring at the ground the whole time.

"So, what's your talent, Maks?" Elvis asked.

Maks shrugged. "Nothing grand. I just write and recite poetry."

"Never doubt your talents. This troupe picked you for a reason."

Maks just shrugged.

"Frenzy, here, he likes to dance. And I can sing. I can sing well, if I do say so myself," Elvis boasted.

Maks opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Mr. Reynolds clearing his throat.

"Good morning artists!" John exclaimed.

"Good morning," came the mixed replies; some people still groggy from the early morning, others bursting with excitement.

"Our first stop will be in Elbron, the bustling city just five day's travel from here. There, we will be putting on a small show to showcase our talents. You see, the musical I promised isn't for a while, and it will be performed in front of the king himself. In between, we will need to show off our skills to anyone who will listen. Now, I know there's a lot of you, twenty-eight in fact, but you will each be shown. Maybe not in every show, but you will be shown, mark my words. For our performance in Elbron, I have chosen to showcase our two newest members, Mr. Elvis Ventura and Mr. Frenzy, along with some of our veterans, Mr. Patrick, Mr. Maks Twistdwadle, and the lovely Miss Lucille, and her team, of course."

Elvis' eyes widened at the familiar name and he looked around. Sure enough, there was doe-eyed Lucille, her hair curled and her cheeks rouged. She was smiling. Catching Elvis' eyes on her, she winked and waved.

John continued on, "It will be a long five days, artists, and I want those mentioned to prepare. Surprise me. Show me something grand!" Everyone cheered. "Don't be too hard on the newbies, though," he added with a wink.

With that, everyone started to pile into the caravans. There was not enough room for everyone, leaving exactly eight walking beside them. Elvis, Frenzy, and Maks were among them. Patrick was the first to pile into a caravan, naturally.

"Five caravans, twenty-eight people, and eight of us still have to walk? What else is inside of those things?" Elvis asked.

"Many of us have instruments that we store inside. Plus, all of our bags, though most of us prefer to just carry those on us. Also, there's stage sets and props, things of that nature. It's very crowded," Maks answered.

Elvis nodded. "I see."

Frenzy was beside himself. "Props? Sets? Like, for the stage? That's awesome!"

Maks winced at Frenzy's loud voice.

"Well, it's going to be a long walk until the next resting point, I assume. Might as well entertain ourselves," Elvis sighed. Turning to Maks, he said, "I'd like to hear some poetry. Show me what you got."

Maks blushed, his face an amazing contrast against his hair. "I really have nothing prepared…"

"Oh, come on. You said you recite poetry. That means you've got to remember something," Elvis pointed out. He placed a hand on his shoulder and said comfortingly, "Don't be shy, my good man."

Maks shrugged. "I guess I do have something. It's not much, but it's something." He cleared his throat and recited a beautiful poem about romanticism and heroics. When he read, his voice was clear, loud, and deep. He had a strong voice, a handsome voice. The poem gave Elvis chills, especially when he thought about how Maks had written it himself. Frenzy was almost in tears.

Maks looked down at his feet when he was finished, and Frenzy sobbed, "It was so beautiful!"

Elvis grinned. "Good job. See? Never doubt yourself." Maks smiled.

The walk was slow and tiring. By twilight, everyone was ready to make camp. Elvis helped make the fire and set up tents. Around the campfire, everyone was singing, laughing, and story-telling. Maks shared another poem, Frenzy danced his heart out (much to Patrick's dismay), and Elvis sang. There were a couple of people telling jokes and stories, and others who could play various instruments. It was like one big talent show.

Lucille and Elvis flirted for most of the night. Out of the corner of his eye, Elvis noticed Patrick glaring at them with a sickened look on his face. Elvis let out a heavy sigh and said, "Excuse me, Lucille, but I'll be right back. I've got to go take care of something."

Lucille waved him off. "It's fine." With a wink, she added, "Hurry back."

Elvis grinned and made his way to Patrick. He was getting real tired of his attitude. Patrick turned away when he saw Elvis approaching him, trying to look as if he had been talking to the man next to him the whole time.

"Patrick," Elvis boomed.

Patrick sighed and turned towards him, an annoyed look pasted on his face. "What?"

"I want to know why you keep glaring at me. I've done nothing to you"

"Well, want in one hand—"

"No!" Elvis shouted. "None of your smartass comments. What's your problem?"

Patrick dusted of his elegant shirt and said casually, "My problem, Elvis, is that I find you disgusting."

"Why?" Elvis asked, his eyes wide.

Patrick shrugged. "Everything about you. Your scarred face, your singing, the way you use women like they're toys…"

Elvis' eyebrows furrowed. "Hey, I have a lot of respect for women. I treat them like goddesses and nothing less. I just love all women, and I like to—"

Patrick waved him off. "Yes, yes. I know what you like to do, and I find you disgusting for it. Now please, it's bad enough I have to put up with you during practices and performances. Will you just leave me be?"

"Fine," Elvis spat. Infuriated, he walked back to Lucille and plopped down next to her.

She patted his shoulder. "It'll be alright, dear. He's just a grumpy person. He thinks he's better than everyone, and he's more than likely just jealous. You're absolutely amazing," she gushed.

Elvis smiled. "Thank you, Lucille. You are too kind. I'm okay though; really. He's not worth the time."

Lucille smiled, her doe eyes sparkling brighter than the millions of stars in the sky. Elvis looked at her and grinned. "You really are stunning, my dear," he said.

She blushed, her cheeks turning a darker crimson than the rouge she wore. "Thank you."

Elvis leaned in, his nose dangerously close to hers, and whispered, "Kiss me."

Lucille giggled. "Gladly."

Slowly, Lucille leaned in to Elvis, her breath soft on his lips. Gently, but with a passion that seemed to burn deep within her, she kissed him. It was long and slow; sweet, yet intense. Her lips tasted like pure sugar, and Elvis couldn't help but deepen the kiss, pulling Lucille closer to him, grazing her lower back with his fingertips.

Around them, men whooped and whistled. Embarrassed, Lucille pulled away.

"What's wrong?" Elvis asked.

"All these people around…it's strange."

Elvis chuckled. "Shall we move this to inside one of the caravans then?"

Lucille blushed again, but whispered in his ear, "I'd love to."

After that, the night seemed to wear on slowly, and Elvis was getting tired. He couldn't go to bed yet, though. Everyone else was around, and what he was going to do he needed privacy for. After a couple long, tiring hours, everyone finally retired to the tents. Elvis slipped away behind some bushes near the camp.

He closed his eyes and drew power from somewhere deep inside his soul. He felt the tingling sensation of magic flowing through his veins. He knew very little about magic, but this was a power he was born with. He thought of his home. He thought of the red velvet curtains hanging over the sparkling glass windows, the plush mattress he slept in every night. Suddenly, Elvis was gone. He was enveloped in magic, flying through space faster than light. Before he started feeling the motion sickness, he came to an abrupt halt. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw that he was in his parlor, right where he wanted to be.

He blinked a couple of times and looked around. Everything was perfectly intact and how he left it. The place had been kept spotlessly clean.

"Oh, Niles!" he called out, wondering where his butler was.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, arrived a human, elegantly dressed in a black suit, his sandy brown hair slicked back, and a smile on his face.

"Oh, Elvis! I thought you'd never return! How was your stay in South Port?" the man, Niles, asked excitedly.

Elvis grinned. "Very interesting. I have a job." Elvis began to fill Niles in on the gig he had landed. Niles seemed intrigued and listened intently. Niles was Elvis' most loyal friend and butler. He took care of the lavish mansion while Elvis was away, and always made sure his servants were in line. He managed the mail, visitors, and anyone else who might come by. He was paid well by his employer, and he trusted him with his life.

"Well, that sounds very exciting! I'm very happy for you!" Niles exclaimed.

Elvis smiled and yawned. "Thanks, Niles. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to go to bed. Another long day is in store tomorrow, and I have to be back before the rest of them wake up."

Niles nodded. "Alright, sir. Sleep well, my friend."

"Have a good night, buddy." With that, Elvis bounded the stone steps that led upstairs, went into his room, and collapsed on his huge, velvety bed. He slept well, dreaming of crowds and applause, and the taste of Lucille's sugary lips.


	4. Chapter 3

The forest the caravan was travelling through was a beautiful sight. The trees were tall and thickly canopied. Beautiful, long vines climbed up the trunks and draped the branches. Flowers the size of a human hand grew on said vines, a vibrant purple in color. Ivy and dandelions blanketed the forest floor. Elvis was reminded of the Elven territory he came from. He breathed the air in around him and smiled wide.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark figure crouch behind a tree. He heard a stick break from heavy boots just a few feet away. Studying the forest further, he could tell there were at least six people hiding. What did they want?

Elvis tried to observe them as discreetly as possible. If they were refugees in hiding, he didn't want to alarm the camp. If they were thieves, he didn't want them to know he was aware of their hiding. After further inspection, he could see they were all wearing some sort of camouflage and daggers were drawn. They looked menacing. Not to the mighty Elvis Ventura, of course, but they were definitely not refugees or passer-byers.

With one hand on his sword, Elvis tapped Frenzy on the shoulder.

"Yeah?" Frenzy barked excitedly.

"Keep your voice down," Elvis whispered as quietly as possible. "There are thieves in the woods. They look like they're about to attack."

"Thieves?!" Frenzy shouted.

Quickly, Elvis drew out his sword and hid behind some nearby bushes. He wasn't used to fighting out in the open where everyone could see him.

Alarmed by Frenzy's cry, the caravan stopped. The thieves jumped out of hiding and began to attack the four guards coming at them.

Elvis crouched lower, observing one particular thief who was dangerously close to him. His back was turned, his mind occupied on the brute in front of him. With his sword gripped tightly in his fist, Elvis pounced. Thrusting his sword into the thief's back, he twisted the handle and killed him on impact. "You messed with the wrong troop," he whispered to the corpse. Slowly, strategically, Elvis circled his way to his next victim; another thief who was blissfully unaware of Elvis' presence.

Elvis pierced him in the back, causing him to whirl around and face him head on. He laughed at the thief, taunting him and practically begging him to attack. The thief plunged his dagger towards Elvis, but missed by inches.

For a while, Elvis teased him like that; dancing around his lunges and blocking his thrusts. Eventually, it hit Elvis that he had a caravan to protect. Besides, this poor sap was just embarrassing himself. Swiftly, with grace, he slashed the thief's side, cutting through his clothes. Blood dripped from the fresh wound, staining the forest floor.

Blocking the next blow, the thief pierced Elvis' chest. Pain shot through his body. Elvis grimaced, and the thief pierced him again. Elvis was dizzy from pain and blood was seeping through the open wound. Through gritted teeth, his mind swelling with anger, Elvis lunged with all his might. His sword pierced through the thief's chest. His eyes widened as he collapsed, his breath ragged and heavy. Elvis smiled. He had won this match.

Around him, three other thieves and one guard laid dead. Frenzy's fur was cloaked with blood, his face dirtier than before. Where there was once a goofy grin now was an angered grimace. His eyebrows were furrowed, his face contorted with fury. A rage like none other seemed to have come over him, reveling itself through his fighting. His double axe seemed to have a mind of its own, slashing the thief in front of him in all the worst places. Frenzy's fight was, well, frenzied, as if he couldn't think straight. Despite that, Elvis was impressed. He still knew what he was doing, and was good at it. With a final lunge, Frenzy hacked the thief's head right off! Blood squirted everywhere as the body crumpled to the ground.

Elvis was dizzy. His wounds were still fresh, and blood was continuing to pump out. He staggered as best he could to the nearest caravan and collapsed inside.

"Well, well, the little hero is wounded," Patrick scoffed. He was lounging on a velvet pillow, seemingly unscathed by the recent predicament.

Elvis coughed, blood and mucus rising out of his throat. "C'mon Patrick. Do you know how to heal?"

Patrick shook his head. "Even if I did, I wouldn't heal someone pompous enough to fight a guard's battle."

Elvis' breath was getting more ragged by the second as he said, "I wasn't being pompous. I was saving your lazy ass."

Before Patrick could retort, Maks came bumbling inside, dragging an unconscious Frenzy with him. Turning around, his eyes widened at Elvis' wounds.

"Oh! You're hurt! Just one minute!" he exclaimed.

Placing his hand on Frenzy's nasty wound, located in the middle of his stomach, Maks rushed through a prayer. Light radiated from Maks, travelling through his hand in to Frenzy's wound. Miraculously, the wound began to close up, and Frenzy's head tossed back and forth as he came to consciousness.

Frenzy's eyes fluttered open. "Thank you," he whispered. It was the first time Elvis had ever heard him speak so softly.

Maks nodded and moved towards Elvis. He first examined Elvis' wounds, then placed his hand on his chest. Elvis winced in pain.

"Shh," Maks whispered, "Just give me a minute, and all will be well."

With that, Maks began to mumble another prayer. It was different than the one he used for Frenzy. Heat radiated through Maks' hand in to Elvis' chest. It was warm and comforting. Elvis closed his eyes and relaxed. He felt his wounds begin to close up and heal. It only took but a minute, and he was himself again.

Elvis breathed in the fresh air and sighed. Opening his eyes, he looked at Maks and thanked him.

"No problem, Elvis. What you and Frenzy did was very heroic. I wish I could have been of more help."

Elvis laughed. "You're plenty of help, my friend."

Maks blushed

Patrick scoffed. "Okay, lovebirds, can you stop now?"

Maks' cheeks turned a deeper shade of crimson, and Elvis rolled his eyes.

"Thank you so much, Patrick, for all your help out there," Elvis muttered sarcastically.

Patrick grunted. "Peh. If I had helped, they would have died in a nanosecond. There wouldn't be any fun in it for you two." He gestured towards Frenzy and Elvis as he spoke.

Frenzy spoke up, "You can fight?"

Patrick sighed, "I use magic, pea brain."

Frenzy shot up excitedly. "That's so cool! What can you do? How many spells can you cast? What spells can you cast? Do you have any special powers? Can you-"

Patrick laughed. "Slow down. I can do anything. I am spectacular," he boasted.

"I highly doubt that," Maks mumbled. Elvis chuckled.

Patrick didn't seem to hear and continued, "A simple A.O.E spell would have done that trick."

"What's an A.O.E.?" Frenzy asked.

"Area of effect," Elvis answered. Looking at Patrick he asked, "How would that have worked? They were scattered all over."

Patrick glared. "Don't question me."

Before Elvis could respond, a guard poked his head around the corner of the caravan and looked straight at Elvis, a toothy grin spread over his face.

"I didn't know a mere singer had that kind of fight in him. I saw the sword, but I thought it was for show. Good job out there."

"Thank you; same to you. Make sure you thank my good friend Frenzy here as well. He did most of the fighting."

The guard nodded. "Yes, thank you. We figured you had a fight like that in ya."

Frenzy smiled. "Back in my homeland, I'm the best fighter around," he boasted.

The guard chuckled a little. "Well thanks again." Turning to Maks, his voice deepened and became more serious as he said, "Brian is dead. Any way to fix that?"

Maks shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, but my powers are limited. I haven't learned yet how to resurrect the dead. I wish I could help."

The guard shook his head. "It's okay. We bury him, then. Our good friend deserves a proper burial."

Elvis, Frenzy, and Maks followed the guard out of the caravan to where Brain laid. His eyes were open in shock, blood pooled around him. A forlorn look was cast over the guard's face. Frenzy looked like he was about to cry, and Maks looked guilty. Elvis sighed. Brian would certainly be missed by many. Elvis didn't like the idea of his allies dying, and he knew of a way he could help him.

"I have an idea, guys," he said. Everyone looked at him as he continued. "I have enough gold to find a priest who can resurrect him."

The guard shook his head. "That's nice of you, but even so, South Port is a couple days away from here, away from the direction we're headed."

Elvis sighed, "I have a way around that as well." The guard stared at him blankly until Elvis said, "I can teleport. I do it every night to go back to my mansion. Getting to town will be no problem."

Frenzy's mouth turned upwards into a smile. "That is so cool! How do you do that? Does it hurt? I heard it hurts. Is it fun? Can you do-"

"Whoa there buddy. One question at a time. It doesn't hurt, but it doesn't feel pleasant. It's sort of fun, I guess. Would you like to go with me?"

Frenzy's eyes widened. "Would I ever! That sounds so cool!"

The guard smiled. "Thank you, Elvis. How long do you think it will take you?"

Elvis shrugged. "Not too awfully long. I have the gold, and there's several temples where I can find a priest."

John Reynolds approached them, an angry look plastered on his face. "What in the world is taking you so long?!" he shouted.

The guard's eyebrows furrowed as he said through gritted teeth, "We're finding a way to bring Brian back, sir."

Elvis looked from one man to another. Something seemed strange about this exchange. Both men were getting much too frustrated with each other.

John shook his head. "There's no time for that. Just…put a gold piece over his body or whatever it is you do to show respect and get a move on!"

"No! I'm sorry to be disrespectful, but this is my friend, and I'm not going to abandon him like this!" the guard shouted.

John lunged towards the guard, but Elvis' reflexes were quicker. He grabbed John's shirt and pushed him to the ground. John was furious.

"How dare you!" he shouted.

Elvis put his hands up as if to surrender. "Look, things were getting out of hand. I have a solution, and it will be quick. Mr. Reynolds, I'm sorry, but you're being a little out of line. I understand you're on a tight schedule, but my god, man."

John spat at the ground. He stood up slowly, brushed off his shirt, and smiled. "No, no need to apologize. You're right. I was out of line. I'm sorry."

Elvis furrowed his brows. John was acting strange. He recovered much too quickly. Elvis shrugged, shaking off the thought. Maybe John just saw the error in his ways.

The guard still looked angry. "It's alright. Just let us resurrect him, and we'll be on our way."

"How exactly do you plan to do that?" John inquired.

Elvis explained again what he could do and how he would do it. John didn't seem phased by the fact that Elvis could teleport. Then again, he was used to seeing strange characters daily.

"Very well. Get a move on," John said.

Elvis looked towards Frenzy. "You ready, bud?"

Frenzy shook his head profusely.

"This is going to be unpleasant, but I think you can handle it."

Frenzy smiled. "I'm ready for anything."


	5. Chapter 4

Elvis placed a hand on Frenzy's shoulder and shut his eyes. Concentrating deeply, he began to imagine the metropolis they had just come from. He imagined the different shops, the tavern where he performed. He thought of the majestic temples and side shops. He felt the familiar feel of magic wrap itself around him. It enveloped the both of them, caressing their cheeks and wrapping around their shoulders. Elvis felt himself moving through space. He was used to the motion sickness, and he wondered how Frenzy was doing.

In an instant, they were in an ally in South Port. The air smelled of fresh fruits and raw meats. They were in the marketplace. People were bustling all around, moving quickly from stand to stand purchasing goods.

Elvis looked towards Frenzy. He was clutching his stomach, his face contorted with pain. Their eyes met, and a goofy smile spread across Frenzy's face.

"That was awesome!" he exclaimed.

Elvis chuckled. "Glad you thought so. I hated it my first time." Frenzy shrugged and Elvis continued. "Now to find a priest. I know they have a temple to Sarenrae around here somewhere…"

Frenzy looked at him quizzically. "Who's Sarenrae?"

"She's the goddess of the sun and healing."

"Do you follow her?"

Elvis laughed. "No, no. I follow Calistria, the goddess of beauty and lust. She's the most alluring of all the goddesses. To gaze upon her is to catch a glimpse of the Heavens. She radiates comeliness and beauty. No mortal could ever dream of-"

Frenzy's mouth was hanging open. Elvis cleared his throat. "Sorry. I don't mean to gush. Let's go find the temple of Sarenrae."

The two men made their way through the marketplace, eventually finding their way to the section where five tall temples stood. The first temple on the far left of the semicircle held the dark bronze symbol of the honorable, merciful god Iomedae. On the far right was a temple holding a lighter bronze symbol representing the Dwarven god of the forge, Torag. The next temple adjacent to Iomedae's showed the dark silver talisman of the goddess of luck, Desna. On the opposite side was the temple of the goddess of freedom, Cayden Cailean, who sported a light silver symbol. The temple in the very middle was the largest with a talisman as bright and golden as the sun itself. Nobody could mistake the temple of Sarenrae.

There were several people inside. Some looked poor, others looked wealthy. All were praying. Young priests and priestesses were milling about, tending to the visitors. A young Halfling woman approached the pair when they stepped inside.

"Hello there! Welcome to the Temple of Sarenrae!" she greeted joyously.

Elvis grinned. The Halfling in front of him was very cute. She had chubby cheeks and deep brown eyes. Her hair was wild, curly, and black. It looked like she tried to tame it with a clip in the back, but it wasn't working. "Hello, lovely," Elvis said.

The Halfling blushed. "My name is Alimorel, but you can call me Ali. If you need anything, I'll be more than happy to help you."

Elvis smiled. "Actually, we are in need of some help."

"Go on."

"Well, our friend has fallen in battle, and we were told that there was a priest or priestess here who could help us resurrect him."

Ali's facial expressions changed throughout that sentence. She went from sadness, to anger, to joy. She seemed almost animated and it was both interesting and amusing.

"Ah! I'm sorry to hear that! But yes, we can help!" Ali exclaimed excitedly. She continued, "Come with me! I will lead you to our High Priestess, Krisnys!"

Ali led the men through several small corridors, each decorated with tall, stained glass windows. In the glass were pictures of epic feats; some performed by men, others performed by what had to be Sarenrae herself.

At the end of one of the corridors was a large door with designs engraved in the wood. Ali stopped abruptly and turned around, suddenly serious. "Alright, Krisnys is behind this door, healing. Be quiet. There are sick and injured in here. Some of the things you might not want to see, but this is the only way to get her attention. Do you both understand?"

The men nodded their heads, and Ali opened the door. Inside were several men, women, and children lying on cots. Some were sleeping, others were moaning out in pain. There were some puking up blood and others coughing up a storm. Men with limbs missing, women with cuts, children with broken bones; all were lined up to see the powerful High Priestess.

Ali walked right up to Krisnys, who was busy healing a woman with the flu. Ali whispered something in Krisnys' ear.

"One moment," she responded.

The trio waited patiently for Krisnys to finish the task before her. She seemed extremely focused throughout her prayer. The prettiest light surrounded her while she healed. It was bright white and glittery. It seemed to wrap around her like a ribbon.

When she finished, the light wrapped itself together and shot upward, disappearing. She turned to the group and said, "Alright, now, tell me what is wrong, Alimorel."

Ali explained the dilemma to Krisnys in perfect detail. When she was done, Krisnys nodded and looked at Elvis and Frenzy in sympathy.

"I would be more than happy to resurrect your friend for you," she said. "But, it comes at a hefty price. To successfully complete a resurrection takes a lot out of me."

"What are you asking?" Elvis inquired.

"Normally, it costs 25,000 gold, but for you, I'll lower it to 15."

Elvis thought for a moment and replied, "No, if it's 25,000, I'll pay the full 25. It's only fair."

Krisnys smiled. "How noble of you."

"Thank you. Now, if you would give me just a moment, I will pay you in full, right now."

Krisnys nodded, and Elvis disappeared, off once more to his mansion.

Niles greeted him. "Good to see you sir!"

Elvis smiled. "Good to see you, as well. I have something I need you to do for me."

Niles gave a slight bow. "At your service, Elvis."

"I need you to go to my treasure room and get me 25,000 gold."

Niles nodded. "Sure thing," he said, and he left; no questions asked. That was one of the many things Elvis liked about his faithful butler. He had a business attitude and a friendly demeanor. He knew when to question and when not to. He also didn't have a stick up his rear like most butlers Elvis had come across. In fact, there were times when he was downright playful.

Shortly after, Niles returned with a small black velvet pouch in his hand. "Here you go, sir. All 25 grand, like you asked."

"Thank you Niles. I will see you tonight, more than likely."

Niles smiled. "Should I prepare for company? I do know how you love to bring the ladies home."

Elvis laughed. "Sure, Niles, that'd be great."

With that, Elvis summoned the magic within him and returned to the temple.

Frenzy was wide-eyed at Elvis' return. "That's still so cool," he whispered.

Elvis smiled at Frenzy. Turning towards Krisnys, he stretched out his hand with the bag of gold and said, "Here you go, as promised."

She took the bag and thanked him. "Now," she said, "How do I get to him?"

"You'll have to take my hand and trust me," Elvis answered.

Krisnys smiled. "Ah, teleportation. How interesting. Are you a mage?"

Elvis shook his head. "I was born with it. I've had to learn to control it over the years."

Krisyns' eyes widened. "Interesting. That's a rare gift."

Elvis smiled. "I know; I'm very thankful for it."

"Well, we should probably get moving. Lead the way, Elvis." Krisnys reached for Elvis' hand. Frenzy took his other one. They all looked at Ali and waved. She wished them luck. Elvis made a mental note to come back and visit her at a later date. She was just his type.

Elvis closed his eyes and concentrated. All of the teleportation he had done that day was beginning to wear him down. It took longer than usual, but the magic finally came, surrounding him and his companions, enveloping them and carrying them back to the caravan.

Once there, Elvis clutched his knees to steady himself and coughed. He suddenly felt nauseated and dizzy. He wasn't used to travelling so much in one day. He needed rest. Maybe he wouldn't go home that night after all.

"Are you alright?" Krisnys asked, looking rather concerned.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

Elvis and Frenzy led Krisnys to where Brian's body laid. Waiting for them was Mr. Reynolds, Maks, and the guard they met before.

"It's about time you two showed up," John muttered. The guard shot him a dirty look.

"Sorry we took so long. We tried to come back as quickly as possible," Elvis said.

Krisnys stepped forward, ignoring Mr. Reynolds completely, crouched down at Brian's head, and examined his body.

"Who's this broad," John whispered to Elvis.

Elvis glared and answered, "Who do you think? It's the High Priestess of Sarenrae. Now, please be quiet so that she can concentrate."

John furrowed his brows, but shut his mouth, and stared at Krisnys. Elvis followed his gaze.

She was on her knees now, bent over him, muttering a prayer. Suddenly, the same bright ribbon that wrapped around her earlier came shooting out of the sky. It danced over Brian's chest and stomach, finally resting over top of him. Krisnys continued to pray, deep in concentration. The ribbon of light moved around again, seeming to go in and out of Brian's body. It laced itself inside of him. Lights shot out of his body, going in every direction. Krisnys placed a hand over his mouth, and with a final prayer, raised it back up slowly.

Brian gasped and coughed. Elvis' eyes widened. He had never seen anything like that. It was beautiful. Krisnys smiled and looked up at the rest of the men.

The guard was flabbergasted. Slowly, he kneeled before Brian and grinned.

Frenzy was ecstatic. Breaking the silence, he blubbered, "Wow…th-that was awesome! Incredible! The ribbon was so…so…pretty! How did you do that?"

"Years of training,"Krisnys responded.

Brian looked at everyone and sat up. Turning to Krisnys, he whispered. "Thank you. That was incredible."

"Yes, yes, it was great. Now, if you'll excuse us, we must get moving," Mr. Reynolds intervened.

Krisnys looked towards him, and Elvis noticed her eyes widen just slightly. "Alright," she said. "Elvis, do you think you could take me back?"

"I think I can spare another trip or two."

"Can I come with again?" Frenzy asked excitedly.

"Sorry, buddy, but I can only take her. It's starting to take a lot out of me."

Frenzy nodded. "Okay, I understand."

Elvis and Krisnys joined hands once more and let the magic take them back to the temple.

"Alright," Elvis said once they arrived, "Thank you for everything."

"Elvis, before you go, there's something I want to tell you," Krisnys said, with a hint of desperation in her voice.

Elvis looked at her quizzically. "Yes?"

She took his hands in hers and kissed them. "Be careful. Be wary of who you trust. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"What are you talking about?"

"I see things, Elvis. I see your future. And most of it is bright. But you are certainly going to see some dark times. I can't tell you anymore. But just remember that not everyone are as they seem."


End file.
